


You Survived: You Became Plant Food (And The Plant Fed You Back)

by ProblematicFave (PriestGuts)



Series: Boyfriend to Death [5]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Amputation, Blood, Breastfeeding, Cannibalism, Gardening Tools, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gore, Lactation Kink, Male Lactation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Plant monster, Stuffing, Tentacles, Trans Character, Vines, gender neutral reader, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 08:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriestGuts/pseuds/ProblematicFave
Summary: They say the quiet awkward ones with shit tons of plants are always the ones you need to watch out for, right?  Yeah, that's totally how that saying goes.  (This is purely Self indulgent.  You have been warned.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all remember my story of Strade using a hedge trimmer? Well that tool is back, just with someone who would actually have a reason to own a motorized hedge trimmer and not just cause I wanna fuck someone up with one. 
> 
> Also...I really have no excuse for this. This is purely self indulgent. But thanks to everyone who watched me write this on stream! Y'all a bunch of champs!
> 
> I'm so sorry for what I've done to your character.

You wake with a start. Your head is pounding from the tea that Lawrence gave you to sleep. It must have contained Valerian Root in order to get you to sleep that fast. Though, now that you really had time to look around, you saw a pot of California Poppies. That could have been it too. Hey, you weren’t lying about liking to garden too. You briefly wondered what kind of dosage of that he was even using before turning your attention back to your rather...dismal situation.

You were still taped to the chair and currently Lawrence was asleep. The area seemed quieter than it had the night before. Either less people were in the building or it was still rather early. You couldn’t really be sure. It was raining so there was no way to judge the time properly. You decided to take your chances.

You drew in a deep breath and screamed as loudly as you could. Over on the bed, Lawrence jolted up in surprise, groggy but still alert enough to understand what was going on. He was up in an instant, cutting off your second scream by clapping his hand over your mouth.

Somewhere in the apartments you heard someone scream back for you to shut up. Obviously no help would be coming for you. Nobody cared enough.

Noticing the death glare that Lawrence’s blue eyes were boring into your very being, you swallowed thickly. The risk you took was calculated, but man are you bad at math.

He uncovered your mouth only briefly before slapping a piece of duct tape over top of it to keep you from making any more noise. “It...is the middle of the day...and you decide to cause problems now?! After I gave you tea to help you sleep.” 

His breathy voice sounded...hollow and it filled you with more dread than anything else he’d done had yet.

You’re REALLY bad at math.

You see him turn his head for just a moment over to the bench holding all his plants and tools and you see this...wicked grin spread over those lips that you thought looked so soft when you first met him at the Jackalope. Now all you saw was danger.

The whimper that you let out when you see what he grabs is muffled by the tape over your mouth. You hear the click of a battery being pushed into place and the machine whirs to life. It’s not horribly loud, not enough to bother the neighbours any, but it’s not the noise that bothers you. It’s the way the rusted blades move together so fast. They glint in the glow light, taunting you with how sharp they probably are.

“You’re too loud and I can see you’re only going to be a nuisance. I should at least make some use of you.”

You can’t even beg him. All you can do is cry and try and scream as he brings the blade down onto your thigh. When he hits the artery in your leg, you feel nauseous. The blood sprays up in a display you’ve only ever seen in horror movies. A red mist and a huge rush of hot, viscous down your leg, enough to make you gag at the sudden smell of copper overpowering the smell of earth and rot.

Too shocked to even cry, you watch as he grinds the blades right through your bones, letting your leg just...fall off. It makes a sickening slap sound as it lands in a puddle of your own blood.

It feels, or doesn’t, strange to be missing an entire limb. You watch in absolute horror as Lawrence reaches down to pick up your dismembered limb...and take a bite.

“A-Are you crazy?!” The words leave your mouth before you can even register that you can talk again. The nausea is back full force now. And yet you can’t take your eyes off of him. His own seem to almost be glowing in the grey light of the room. A flash of lightning and crash of thunder darkens your vision momentarily, making them only seem to glow more.

They were much too bright now. That couldn’t possibly be human. 

Lawrence doesn’t even react. You can see, as he takes another bite, that the teeth further back in his mouth look...different. Large and sharp. Not like human molars. Not for plant matter but for ripping and tearing flesh. He had the teeth of a predator.

You were so entranced watching him eat, that you hardly noticed HOW MUCH he’d eaten. A fair sized chunk of your leg was gone now and you can see the bone in a few places.

Looking further down, you could see that his stomach had distended slightly. He was lithe and obviously didn’t eat a lot, so having such a...meal was a new experience. He must have been so full already, but there was so much of your leg left and you...almost wanted to see how much he could actually take.

Your hands were still taped to the chair and your mouth was still taped up, so you had to gently nudge his side with your other knee. It wasn’t a desperate or scared gesture, he could tell, and his eyes flicked up to yours for a moment in interest. He seemed to be considering something for a moment before reaching up to pull the tape from your mouth, hands covered in your own blood.

While you take a moment to breathe, Lawrence watches you closely, swallowing down a large chunk which makes his throat bulge out. You can feel your cheeks heat up when he licks a bit of blood off of his lips.

He tenses when you open your mouth so you pause for a moment. He clearly thinks that you’re going to scream again. But you don’t. You speak softly instead. “You can eat more than that.” Lawrence looks...concerned almost, like this is some sort of trick. “You’re too thin. You should eat more.”

He looks...almost...excited about the encouragement and leans in to take another nice chunk out of your leg to swallow down. Now that you’re watching him, you notice he doesn’t even really chew. Each time he swallows, you can see his throat bulge out. It makes you shift in your chair. You don’t know why that’s so attractive.

After a few more swallows, you can see he’s shifting too, flannel uncomfortably tight across his stomach. You bite your lip, wondering if you should say something, but don’t get the chance before the middle button pops right open. His pale cheeks turn pink in his embarrassment. 

“Don’t stop,” you tell him, gently nudging the side of his torso with your knee. Your leg brushes his stomach which only makes his flush darken and makes him avert his eyes away from you. But, to your surprise, he leans in and takes another bite.

At this point, there’s only a few bites of your leg left and you’re starting to feel woozy from the blood still pouring from your wound. There’s a pool of it on the floor. Your head droops only for a moment as you nearly pass out, but you...want to keep encouraging him. 

You wake right back up when you do. His eyes seem even brighter now, staring deep into your very being, boring into your own eyes. Something about him seems...different. That sickly sweet smell is stronger now and you know it’s not just your imagination because your senses are more clear than they’ve ever been in your entire life.

It’s starting to get dark outside and as the light lowers...Lawrence only seems brighter. His eyes glow and so do...his freckles? His freckles are glowing. In the dark you can see all the freckles that dust his muted flesh, which is almost seeming to seem...ashen at this point. Maybe that is your imagination.

“Lawrence…” You feel yourself whisper in exhaustion. You can’t stay awake for much longer. You’ve lost too much blood. Before you can say anything else, you slip into unconsciousness.

 

______

 

You wake with a gasp. It’s dark out, but obviously close to dawn if the dulling stars are anything to go by. You look around and don’t see Lawrence anywhere in sight. You’re still alive though. Your leg, or what’s left of it, is bandaged up. You’re groggy, but you’re alive.

“Lawrence?” you call out softly. You...don’t want to alert the neighbours anymore. You have no idea why, but you don’t.

Hearing a noise from the bathroom, you perk up. You try and look over your shoulder to see him, but you can’t look back that far. You’re not an owl after all nor is this The Exorcist.

You go to speak, but your voice fails you when he finally comes into your field of vision. He’s positively glowing. Literally and figuratively. His freckles and eyes are glowing brighter than ever before and he looks...so soft. His flannel is still straining slightly over his stomach, though he’s much less full than before. The weight seems to have shifted upwards. Is he…?

Lawrence jumps in surprise when he sees that you’re up. “O-Oh. You’re awake!” His cheeks flush a little and he covers his chest with his arms. He obviously wasn’t expecting you to be conscious just yet. This however, only makes his cheeks go even redder and he pulls his arm away to look down.

His shirt is stuck to his chest and looks a little wet.

Before you can stop yourself, you find yourself speaking. “You should probably take that off. It looks uncomfortable.”

Lawrence looks like he might faint his face is so red. But he obviously agrees with you, slowly starting to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up. You feel your breath hitch and your heart pound harder with each little bit of flesh that’s exposed, until he stalls just below his chest.

“It’s okay,” you tell him as calmly as you can. Your voice is shaking. You’ve never been this excited about anything before. You really want to see what’s under his shirt.

Lawrence stalls for a little while longer, shifting as he stands, obviously uncomfortable with how his shirt is clinging to his flesh. He eventually decides to throw caution to the wind and undoes the top two buttons, revealing a nice set of...very full breasts. 

You’re sure that your face is probably as red as his is at this point, but you really can’t take your eyes off of him. “You’re beautiful.” This seems to throw him for a loop. Your comment has his flush darkening impossibly more and makes the glow to his eyes and freckles seem to flicker. “That looks like it hurts. Is there...anything I can do to help?” Lawrence looks surprised, but he can tell that you’re sincere in your offer. The longer he stands there, the more you can see his resolve weaken. “I want to help you, Lawrence.”

And that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. He’s so quick that you almost don’t see him move. There’s a soft weight on your thighs that makes you wince because of your injury, but you don’t make a sound and you make yourself relax. You don’t want to scare him off.

“Please,” you hear him beg. His voice is so soft. It hurts every fiber of your being to hear him sound so distressed. Without realizing it, you rest your head against his shoulder, nuzzling your face against his neck to breathe him in. He speaks again and it breaks your heart. “Please, it hurts.”

You need no more encouragement than that. You press a soft kiss against his throat, feeling his swallow beneath your touch before slowly moving down. Each inch of flesh gets a press of your lips, warming as you go further down.

Lawrence leans back to give you a little more room to work. But he probably isn’t expecting you to be so direct. You hear his breath hitch when you run your tongue out directly against one of his nipples. It’s hot against his cooled flesh. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that whatever he had leaked tastes...sweet. Not overly so, subtly and you can still taste his flesh underneath. You can’t place what any of it reminds you of, but you’re not complaining either.

With a hum, you close your mouth around him to give the bud a testing suck. You don’t want to overwhelm the poor boy. It doesn’t seem to so you lean in further, mouthing at him to stimulate him further. Before you could pull your mouth away to work the other side however, you felt him pull you in, keeping you in place and smooshing your face further into his chest. He obviously wants you to stay there, and who are you to deny him after all.

With a swirl of your tongue, you can feel the muscles in his stomach clench. You take that as a good sign and repeat the movement. “Please…” you hear him repeat once more. You suppose that you should probably stop teasing him. You wish that you had use of your arms to be able to hold him, but you know that’s probably not going to happen, so you nuzzle against him, finally giving him what he wants.

With a soft draw at his nipple, you feel a rush of something thick and warm against your tongue and you can’t help but let out a soft hum of appreciation at the sweetness. Your immediate reaction is to get more. When you swallow, you can feel your head getting fuzzy. All you can think about is getting more. So you do.

You draw on him again and again, feeling mouthful after mouthful of warm nectar slide down your throat so smoothly. You’re hypnotized by his flavour. You don’t even feel in control of your own body anymore.

When he leads you over to his other nipple, you don’t fight him. You let him guide your actions as your head is too fuzzy to think properly right now. You delve right in, working your tongue against his nipple, trying to get more from him. You can’t even feel how tight your stomach is becoming. The more you swallow, the tighter you becoming, fuller and fuller of his nectar. You hardly register his desperate panting and soft moans, encouraging you to keep going. You briefly feel your wrists be free from the tape and hear his command to touch him, but you obey. 

You slide your hand down the front of his pants to touch him, teasing your fingers over him before slowly sinking them inside. As you do, you feel something press inside yourself. Groggily you open your eyes to see how bright he’s glowing, vines overtaking the chair you’re sitting in, holding you tight to him and getting closer. Oh so close. 

You gasp against his nipple as his vines get deeper, closing your mouth back around him to take another deep draw. You have to work harder now. He’s almost there and so are you.

You’re panting and rocking together, both caught up in the heat of the moment. You wish that you could properly see the lovely faces that he’s probably making in that moment, but you can’t leave him hanging, not when he’s being so generous.

Inside of you, you can feel his vines twisting and prodding at all of the right spots and you sink your fingers deeper inside him, using the heel of your hand to tease the outside, intent on making him finish before you do. It’s only polite.

You hear his voice rise in pitch with each gasp of air. You feel him shudder beneath your touch and you redouble your efforts. You feel his own movements get more desperate. You writhe beneath him, nearly losing your mind over all of the overwhelming sensations you’re experiencing in one, singular moment.

It isn’t long before you hear him cry out, head tossed back as he grinds down against your hand, eyes shut tight at the intensity of it all. Your own climax follows soon after and you both spend a few moments slumped against one another, exhausted and satisfied. 

You hear him speak, but you can’t make out what he says. You feel him help you over to the bed where you promptly pass out into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
